


code of living is your gun in hand

by carrionkid



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Anti-Fix It Fic, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, implied/referenced suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: this takes place after the events of the anime. i've affectionately nicknamed it the "anti-fix it fic". the title comes from 'ventilator blues' by the rolling stones. the bebop crew tries to cope in the aftermath of spike's death.--You can't afford to be the sentimental type in this kind of life, and if you're senseless enough to still get sentimental, you better hope you can hide it well.It's not too hard to track everyone else down. Faye, and he'll never understand her, almost seems like she wants to be found, even after everything that happened right there at the end.He really doesn't like calling it that because it's a shit ending anyways and all the rest of them are still right in the middle of another god-awful story. It's all too moralistic and nobody learns anything from it while they're in the thick of it.He finds her where she usually is: gambling away her troubles and a whole lot more than she bargained for in some high end casino. She made it farther than he was expecting, but she still left a trail.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	code of living is your gun in hand

You can't afford to be the sentimental type in this kind of life, and if you're senseless enough to still get sentimental, you better hope you can hide it well.

It's not too hard to track everyone else down. Faye, and he'll never understand her, almost seems like she _wants_ to be found, even after everything that happened right there at the end. 

He _really_ doesn't like calling it that because it's a shit ending anyways and all the rest of them are still right in the middle of another god-awful story. It's all too moralistic and nobody learns anything from it while they're in the thick of it.

He finds her where she usually is: gambling away her troubles and a whole lot more than she bargained for in some high end casino. She made it farther than he was expecting, but she still left a trail.

She spots him almost instantly, but it isn't enough to get her to get up from her table. He almost backs out right then and there, no use in any of this at all, but something stops him.

It's _not_ the sentimentality talking. This is as much about warning her as it is about anything else. It just wouldn't be fair to let her walk around not knowing about the danger she's in.

When she's lost everything she has to lose, she heads over to his booth and slips in next to him. Faye's drunk, for once, not just teetering right on the edge and acting to make everyone else let their guard down. 

She sets a single chip down on the table and slides it over to him, "I should've known you'd come crawling back to me! You boys are nothing without a woman's touch! Someone has to have tact and grace and style!"

He clears his throat and hopes that no one's listening, "Spike's dead."

The Syndicate just left him there after it was all said and done. Guess he wasn't worth anything more than that: an undignified, unneeded death. They didn't even kill him, they just let him die, and the difference is important.

Wherever he is now, Jet's betting it all just burns him up inside. Stupid kid spent so much time dwelling on that other life and they just left him to the dogs, out in the streets.

Against all odds, Faye just laughs, "Always so dramatic with you two."

"This isn't a joke, Faye. Don't tell me you didn't know it was a suicide mission. You can play dumb, but I know you're not stupid."

"So he really went and did it, huh?" She traces her fingers over the chip; he knows she won't mention it, and he sure as hell won't either, but it's all too similar to where they started, "I didn't think he could ever commit to something enough to give up his life for it, but I guess I was wrong."

"I think he just wanted to die."

He's never admitted it before. Admitting it would've scared Spike off, even if it wasn't a confrontation, and who knows what he'd get up to alone.

"That's just like him, isn't it?" Faye scrubs at her eyes with her free hand, "Leaving us to clean up his mess without a thought?"

The truth is, Jet all but took care of the mess by himself.

He wasn't expecting it to be that easy to get Spike's body, but there wasn't anyone left to claim him and he'd already been "dead" once before. 

(If he was smart, he would've taken advantage of the clean slate, but then again, if he was smart, none of them would be together.)

And after the weeks it took for it all to sink in, he had Spike cremated. There wasn't anywhere to bury him, not with the Syndicate licking its wounds, holed up somewhere. Any grave with the name Spike Spiegal on it would end up desecrated. 

And for all the time the kid spent caught up in the past, he never mentioned any family, any home, anything other than the Syndicate and Julia.

So, Jet supposed, this was as close as it gets to a home. And the family? Well, they're all split up, gone their separate ways. 

Which is how he ended up here, tracking Faye over the course of months, because he just needed something to do and it was, and still is, too risky to take contracts.

"You could've came and told me," her voice hitches, just the slightest crack in her usual act, "You didn't have to make me to rack up this high of a bounty just to get you out here. I know you don't go after small fry like me, but you didn't have to wait so long."

He _was_ tracking her by her bounties, following from planet to planet as she skipped out on her debts. But it's taken this long to find an opening where there wasn't someone else two steps behind her.

"I'm not here to cash in on your bounty," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

She scoffs, "Well isn't that _kind_ of you!"

"Faye… I'm not in the business anymore. I'm _out._ And if you were smart, you'd keep your head down, too. _"_

"I'm a grown woman, Jet, I can handle _myself._ I survived on my own for _years_ before I met you guys."

He should've known she'd take it personally, but he can't leave until he's sure she understands exactly what he means.

"Come on back to the ship, we can finish this talk there."

He's been… _overly_ cautious lately, but he's got enough common sense to know when he's in a world of trouble and Faye's starting to get loud. He's just a man on a mission and the Syndicate's had months to regroup.

* * *

She comes back with him without so much as a complaint. They've got a lot to talk about and none of it is easy to say, but this is a start, at least. Never mind that they aren't even looking at each other. 

He settles down on the couch, trying to figure out what to say when it's been years since he's had any kind of serious conversation. Faye digs a bottle of whiskey out of somewhere, grinning like an idiot with her prize in hand. For all he knows, she stole it from the casino, but he's got a sinking feeling that tells him otherwise.

"Spike told me about this, right when I was leaving," she laughs, but it's empty, nothing behind it.

Jet grits his teeth, "Of course he did."

"I'm not in the habit of stealing things on my way out, so I never went looking for it. I can't believe you haven't burned through it yet!"

"I didn't know it was there," he mutters.

Living with someone long enough makes it so that nothing's ever _really_ a secret and so he knows that Spike doesn't tell anyone where he's hidden anything valuable unless he's thinking about doing something he won't come back from. But that kind of understanding goes both ways, doesn't it?

Spike didn't want Jet to stop him. That's a hard truth to swallow.

"I guess he had some good taste after all. This is _nice,"_ Faye turns it over in her hands, "And it hasn't even been opened, it's still--"

She holds the bottle up so he can see it too: a note taped on the back, nothing more than _last will and testament_ scrawled across it.

"I _hate_ him," her face is contorted in a way he's never seen before, pure anguish, "And his stupid, awful sense of humor."

Faye sets the bottle down on the table, hard enough to make the thud echo off the walls, but careful enough that she doesn't break it. Then, she takes her place in the chair, knees drawn up to her chest like a child.

"Have you told Ed yet?" She mumbles, head resting against her knees.

"You were easier to find."

"She's still on Earth. She calls me sometimes, but I can't understand any of what she's saying. The signal's so weak and she barely made sense even when she was standing right next to me."

He can't even be mad that she hasn't tried to call him once, because this means she's _alive._ Faye left a trail everywhere she went, he knew for a fact that he wasn't just chasing a ghost.

Ed hardly ever left the ship when things got hairy, but he's sure the Syndicate knows about her. And he knows damn well they've got nothing against killing anyone in their way, even children. 

Maybe he should've gone looking for her first, but he was terrified of what he might find.

But he can't explain what kind of danger they're all in right now, not when Faye's so close to the edge. He's seen it in Spike enough times to know that she was probably desperate to be found.

"You know, if there's a call record, we can follow the signal right back to her," he's hoping she takes it as the invitation it is.

Faye smiles, weak and strained, "Just like old times, huh?"

"This isn't a way back into the business. I meant it when I said I was out. Spike deserves more than just one person mourning him and we were the closest thing to a family he had left. _That's_ why I'm here."

Of course, it isn't the only reason and he can't help but wonder if Faye knows that too. If _anyone_ knows the importance of not showing your full hand, it's her.

"So what? You're getting us all back together so we can drink in Spike's honor and then we all just drift apart again?"

"Well," he clears his throat, "I think we should stick together."

The idea of safety in numbers is a nice lie, the kind you sell yourself so you can sleep at night. The three of them couldn't do much at all if the Syndicate _really_ wanted them dead.

"Yeah? _Why_ ? And don't say ' _because it's what Spike would want'_ ! He's _dead!_ He doesn't get a say in this anymore! He made his choice!"

Jet knows he can't put it off forever, but he was hoping he could wait just a little longer, "The Syndicate has had _months_ to regroup and we still aren't even all _together._ You don't know them like I do. They're dangerous and as long as they're in operation, we'll never be able to let our guard down."

"So why don't we go _stop_ them already?!" She shouts, slamming her fist down against the arm of the chair.

"I wasn't the suicidal half of this partnership. I know when to leave well enough alone and I know when to swallow my pride and keep myself alive. And I would rather go on living without worrying that you or Ed ended up getting put down like an animal by the Syndicate."

Faye crosses her arms with her face twisted up into a scowl. She's stubborn, strong willed, and he's always liked her all the more for it, but it's going to get her killed one day.

"Do you know what they did to Spike?" He asks for the sake of procedure, but he doesn't expect her to answer.

Like he said, she's stubborn. She sits there, still scowling like it's the only thing keeping her from falling apart and truth be told, it probably is. He knows what it's like to want to look strong.

"They let him fight back until there was nothing left in him and then they ditched him there in the street. There was no killing blow, no mortal wound, he just fought and fought until his body gave out. It was a bloodbath, Spike must've cleaned out half the building. But it wasn't _enough_ because the difference between us and the Syndicate is that they don't care how many of their own have to die in order to kill us."

Spike did good on his own, left behind a trail of carnage that really drove home that he was one of them, once. 

None of the bodies were claimed, not even Spike's, at least not on record. But they slip through the cracks all the time, sold off to organ farms and what have you. 

They took his name, too. They couldn't just leave it at taking his life, his dignity. Jet couldn't even formally identify him without immediately tipping off the Syndicate. Just another nameless body, a drop in the bucket of bureaucracy.

"I don't regret anything I've done for Spike, but helping him was as good as a death sentence," he's done more than she'll ever know, but he's hoping she'll stay.

"Fine," Faye huffs, still putting up that angry front, "Let's find Ed."

* * *

As crazy as she is, he knows that Ed's a smart girl, and a careful one, considering how long she made it without getting found. So he's confident enough to feel like he isn't walking into a trap. If she's calling Faye and Faye _only,_ he's pretty sure there's no chance of anyone else catching the signal by mistake.

And the fact that they can _follow_ said signal, means she probably wants to be found.

"She seemed fine the last time she called," Faye's taken to picking at her nails like she's cleaning them, some unearthed nervous tic, "She seemed _happy_. I should've tried harder to understand her, the last call was weeks ago."

"Give her a little credit," he laughs, just to drive away all the possible ways this could go wrong, "I'm sure she'll outlive us all."

"But she's all alone out there!"

He trains his eyes on the sky around them, "She was alone before we found her. And she knows Earth better than anyone in the Syndicate, she'd keep them on their toes."

"You don't _understand!"_ Faye shouts and he whips around in time to see her digging the heel of her palms into her eyes, "I'm the one who told her to go find where she _belongs_!"

"You didn't--"

"And worse than that," her voice catches again, threatening to break, "I'm the one who promised she could join us. It would have just been you and me living like fugitives, waiting for the day the Syndicate comes for us. But she's just a _kid!"_

He sighs and slips the Bebop into autopilot so he can face her properly, "There's no point in blaming anyone. Not anymore. We can't change anything we've done and we can't let the past control us. You know that."

They're almost there anyway and it'll be too late to do anything other than deal with whatever life throws at them. But he has a pretty good feeling about this. It's strange; for the first time since Spike died, he has a good feeling about something.

When they breach the atmosphere he turns back to the controls for the final descent and stops trying to bother with conversation. They've got a pretty narrow search radius to work with, but no specific point of origin. Knowing Ed, she's been bouncing the signal off of anything she can get her hands on.

It's desolate once they punch through the cloud cover. Nothing but craters and rubble in sight, but that seems to be what Ed likes. Normally he wouldn't bring the Bebop this far down, but there's no way he'd fit in the Red Tail, he had to sell the Hammer Head to cover the Bebop’s repairs months ago, and he's not passing up on the chance to make sure that the kid's still okay.

"There's _nothing,_ " Faye mumbles, "Nothing at all."

"We've still got a ways to search. Better cancel your plans for today, because we're walking."

It won't be _easier,_ but it'll be safer on foot so he eases the Bebop down, tucking her away in one of the shallow pools of rainwater collected in an old crater. They should still be safe; he'll get an alert if there's any bounties placed on their heads and they wouldn't have made it this far if they were followed. But he's still uneasy and he'd rather be careful.

* * *

It's downright miserable on Earth, but it works wonders for taking your mind off things. They're hot, they're tired, and they're only about halfway through the search radius. There's no sign of Ed, but there's no sign of life at all, so it's not too discouraging.

"Wait, Jet, hold on!" Faye shouts and it's the most lively she's been since he found her, "There's something over there!"

He follows along where she's pointing, eyes bleary and strained. It's hard to tell, but she could be right, so he pulls his computer glasses from his vest pocket and magnifies as far as they'll go.

"Well, it's not another tower of rocks," he adjusts, bringing a rusted spire into focus.

"But do you think it's _Ed?"_

He purses his lips, "It looks old, it might be left over from before the collapse."

"So?! She spent years in that run down orphanage!" Faye almost knocks the glasses off with how frantically she's trying to shake him, "I bet that's her!"

"Okay, okay, we'll go see what's there."

She takes off running before he even gets a chance to finish his sentence. But it's good to see. It's good to know there's still some sort of spark left in her. He'll get a chance to catch up once Faye gets winded.

He _is_ starting to get his hopes up, against his better judgement, because the closer they get, the more it looks _intact._ Nothing stays intact on Earth for very long unless someone cares about it, and even then, you’ve got to care a whole hell of a lot about it to keep it standing.

The building at the tower’s base is still standing, too. It’s patched together carefully and growing ever larger, like a tumor wrapped around it, with clear lines between each new addition and the last. It’s at this point that he knows, deep down in his gut, that they’ve found her.

That, and the fact that she comes bolting out of there before he can even say anything.

Ein’s following hot on her heels and he sighs. At least she had someone to keep her company, she wasn’t out here all alone.

She crashes into Faye and drags her along to spin around, “Faye-Faye! Faye-Faye came back! Look, look, look, Ed found where Ed belooongs!”

Jet can’t help but laugh when she starts trying to drag Faye along, but it only seems to make Ed stop in her tracks. Ein settles down between her feet, panting away. It sure seems like Ed’s the only one used to heat out here.

“Jet-person,” she says, giving him a solemn nod, “You’re here to take Ein back to Bebop? Ed did not _steal_ Ein! Ein chose to follow Ed!”

Then, she folds forwards and scoops Ein up off the ground, holding him like the child she is. A little too tight, a little too careless, but he doesn’t do anything other than bark once.

“We’re not here to take Ein,” he speaks very softly and carefully, “It looks like you’re taking good care of him, kid.”

“The adventures of cowgirl Ed and sidekick Ein! Searching together across space and time! Fooooor the father-person!” 

She spins around as she sings and he can’t imagine Ein’s too happy about it, but she’s happy, at least. He almost wants to leave her like this, so she never has to find out about what happened after she left, even if he knows that would be as good as killing her himself.

Faye’s staring at him from behind Ed, looking like she’s about to crack. She’s a good liar and has an excellent poker face, but whenever there’s feelings involved, she gets quiet. And right now, she’s bordering on the edge of shell-shocked, so he knows it’s down to him to get things moving.

“Hey, Ed,” he pauses, waiting for the outside world to catch up with her. 

He’s gotten good at figuring out when she’s listening, even if you couldn’t tell just from looking at her. She quiets down into just humming whatever she’s thinking about and drops Ein, letting him run free.

“Why don’t you come back with us to the Bebop and we can talk for a while.”

* * *

He hasn't asked her if she'd like to stay, because it really isn't a question. He spends the whole walk back to the Bebop mulling over how to tell her that she can't, well, shouldn't go back to searching for her father.

With any luck, she'll fall right back into place as soon as she boards, getting lost in something new she's latched onto. But he knows life isn't that simple. He’s already risking a lot by still using the Bebop.

It's easy to forget that, though, because when they get close, Ed bolts right up the gangway, making an awful lot of noise for a bare-footed twig of a kid. Ein follows right at her heels and the rest of them get into common area just in time to see her spin around and flop down on the couch.

She giggles when Ein leaps up and lands on her back, kicking her feet and banging her fists against the couch. This, he thinks to himself, this is the home. This is the family.

He can see her in a few years, the same untameable hair as Spike, the same need to be in motion, the same self-sure shit-eating grin that'll get you punched more times than it'll win you any favors. If she stays with them, she's going to be a hell-raiser.

But it's funny. He's stubbornly seeing the future, like it'll be enough to keep them alive. Like seeing the past is the only thing that got Spike killed, not whatever losing battle he was in the midst of with his own damn self.

Ed sits up, stiff as a board, and almost knocks Ein to the floor, "Where's Spike? Spikey Spikey Spike, where are you _hi_ -ding?"

"That _fucking IDIOT_ had to go and get himself _killed!"_ Faye punctuates it with this awful, strangled, animal sound, like nothing he's ever heard from her.

"But Spike is _on_ Bebop?"

"He's _dead,"_ Faye screams, voice cracking, "He _died!_ He finally went and did it! Don't you _get_ that?!"

" _Faye_ ," he warns her quietly and without touching her; he should've known it would take some effort to get through this conversation with Ed, " _Please."_

She goes silent, even if it looks like she's about to bite through her tongue from the effort.

"Uh-huh, Spike is dead! Dead as a doornail! Dead dead dead!"

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. It's bound to be a long night. 

Faye must be thinking the same thing, though, because she grabs the bottle of whiskey off the table and sinks down in the chair like she's throwing up a white flag. Then, she opens it up and knocks it back, drinking straight out of the bottle. Ed follows the motion, twisting her head around and barely even paying attention when Jet takes a seat next to her.

"Last will and testament," she sounds out slowly, head craned, "Till and westament! Will and testament!"

"Save some for the rest of us, huh?" He sighs.

Faye wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, holding the bottle out to him, "Knock yourself out."

He takes it from her and gets up to get glasses because if they're doing this, they're doing it right. He sets the glasses down on the table, the only sound in the room other than Ein panting. Then, he pours the first two, stopping himself before the third.

"Come onnnn, Jet," Faye smiles, already a little loosened up, "Give the girl a drink! It's what Spike would want!"

"Edward's thirteen."

" _Edward_ has already done _shrooms!"_

She laughs uproariously, "Edward wants a drink!"

He sighs, filling up the third glass, "Alright, but you get _one._ And only because we're doing this for Spike."

Jet takes his glass and holds it up, waiting for everyone else to follow in suit. Ed's more excited than she should be, but he's not too sure she's understanding the whole situation and he's not going to try again now that there's booze in the mix.

"To Spike. Wherever that kid is, I hope he's finally doing alright."

"To Spike," Faye echoes, knocking her glass against his.

Ed almost spills her drink, crashing her way into the toast, " _To Spike_!"

He chokes his back almost as quickly as Faye does, but Ed has them both beat. She grimaces, sticking her tongue out, but he still has to stop her from slowly reaching over for the bottle.

* * *

"Shiiit," Faye throws her head back and laughs, still holding onto her glass with as much grace as she can muster, "Remember when he almost got us kicked out of that club? Where-where was it? Io, right?"

She's matched him glass for glass and if he's buzzed, then she must be blitzed; he shuts his eyes with a smile, "It sure wasn't the first time he got his scrawny ass kicked for saying something stupid. You'd think he lived for bar fights."

Ed's out like a light, half on and half off the couch with her cheek pressed into the floor. She made it two drinks in, working her way through the second one whenever they took their eyes off her and whenever they caught her, she was grimacing like she was trying to make up her mind on if she liked it or not. It wasn't enough to leave her hungover and it's not going to kill her once, so he's not too worried.

In fact, he's downright _relaxed_ for the first time. He hasn't quite made it to happy, but he's _calm._

But that doesn't stop him from startling when Faye jumps up to her feet, wobbling precariously and spilling half her drink, "We should _do something!_ For Spike!"

" _Other_ than getting blackout drunk?" He raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head emphatically, "Other than getting blackout drunk."

"Well," he wrings his hands.

Back in his quarters, there's a little non-descript black box sitting in a drawer beside his bed. It's unnerving how damn small it is, but it's all that's left. Well, that and Spike's eye, which wouldn't burn and could've fetched a handful of Woolongs, but he's _not_ going to sell it.

"Are you gonna elaborate tonight, or?"

"I have his ashes," he whispers, "I've kept them all along."

The blood drains from Faye's cheeks and he _understands._ It doesn't seem so _real_ when they're reminiscing, when they're drunk, when it's not right in front of them.

"It didn't seem right to do it alone," he doesn't know why he feels like he needs to explain, "I don't want to be the only one left to remember him."

"I guess it's fitting if we leave," her voice hitches, "Uh, leave him with the stars. He'd hate it, being stuck in one place forever."

He's been thinking the same thing, mulling it over and over. There have been a lot of contingency plans he cooked up for dealing with Spike and most of them had to do with the fact that he was going to die first and die young and how to stop that from happening, but Jet's never planned anything for this. Maybe he was just hoping all the other ones would work and he'd never get to this point. It seems foolish, now.

"He was born on Mars. Never talked about it much, but he told me that, at least. We could be there by morning."

It's a risky move; the Syndicate wouldn't just _leave_ their heart unprotected and there's many places to hide out and lick their wounds. He doesn't even know if Spike ever felt any affection for the planet, anyway, but it makes sense as an ending.

"We could," she echoes.

* * *

The next morning, the bottle is empty and they're drifting just outside of Mars' gravitational field.

_Someone_ set the course. Maybe him, maybe Faye, maybe even Ed. Clever kid, that one, and always scheming.

He hasn't been hungover like this since… Well, since he met Spike. And it feels just as shitty as it did when that weedy kid in that rat-hole bar drank him under the table. God only knows how he ended up such a lightweight in such a short time.

He kneads his palms against his forehead, trying to push away the headache with little success. It's especially pointless once Ed pounces and lands on his stomach.

"Bebop is right next to Mars!" She shouts, making him wince, "Cowgirl Ed will find the bad guys and Jet and Faye-Faye can get Spike back! Cowgirl Ed saves the day!"

He sighs, "Ed…"

She's not listening, too busy aiming her fingers and anything and everything and pretending to shoot. Then, she pokes him in the forehead with her first two fingers.

"Stick 'em up or Ed blows your brains out!"

It's an old quote from somewhere and the hangover's only half of what makes it hurt so much. She's a spitfire and she doesn't listen when she should and she's too ready to rush into action and he's seen this all before.

"Ed, we're here to say goodbye," he bats away her hand and shrugs her off gently so he can sit up.

"How? Spike is gone, gone, gone! No one to say goodbye to!"

He puts a hand on her shoulder, ever so lightly, and waits until she stops trying to squirm away, "There isn't anyone to get _back_ , kid, Spike _died."_

" _ED KNOWS!"_ She shrieks, bloodcurdling for the few seconds before she reigns it back in, "Ed knows! _Ed knows!_ Ed is not _stupid!"_

"I never said you were," before all of this, he was with ISSP, and even with everything he's become, this part is still second nature to him, "But this is hard for everyone. It's hard for me and it's hard for Faye and it doesn't always make sense--"

Ed grabs at her hair like she's about to tear it out, strands wrapped tightly around her fingers, "It does! It _does!_ Spike-person died! Ed and Faye-Faye and Jet-person are alive! _See!?"_

" _Okay_. It makes sense."

"But Spike is still Spikey Spikey Spike," she sounds ragged, frantic, eyes squeezed shut and hands pressed against the side of her head, "Even if he's dead. So we have to, have to, have to get Spike back."

This situation calls for a woman’s touch, or maybe he just doesn’t want to have this conversation alone, but Faye is nowhere to be found and he’s half convinced that Ed’s going to go get herself killed over the childish idea of revenge and honor and payback if he takes his eyes off her to go _find_ Faye, so he’ll have to handle this alone. He lets go of her, since it doesn’t seem to do anything other than make her more upset.

“We have Spike here, with us.”

“In our _hearts,_ in our _hearts,”_ she mocks, tilting her head from side to side as she sing-songs, and he knows her well enough that he _understands_ that she parrots things she’s heard, “Not the same.”

“No, we _have_ him. Here, on the ship, right now.”

She leaps to her feet, grabbing him by the collar, “Come on, come on, come on, Ed wants to see! Get up, get up!”

When Jet stands up, his joints groan in protest and it doesn’t help that Ed’s still clinging to him for dear life. She’s not particularly heavy, but he’s not as young as he used to be. Once she’s satisfied that he’s going to show here where Spike is, she lets go and drops to the floor, trailing after him on light feet.

* * *

By the time they reach his quarters, he’s pretty sure this is a bad idea. 

But he still lets her in. 

It’s one of the few private spaces he has; until now, the only other person that’d seen the inside of it was Spike, and who knows if he even remembered any of those times. It was those first few months, when his eyes would glaze over and he wouldn’t know where he was, and then, later on, it was those nights where he _couldn’t_ be alone.

As much as he hates it, he lets Ed bounce on the bed when he’s getting the box. When he pulls it out of the drawer and unwraps the cloth around it, she leaps off and lands right behind him. 

She wraps her hands around his arm, peering out from behind him, “ _Spike_?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Spike fits in _there?!”_ Her voice sharpens, almost frantic, “The teeny tiny, teeny tiny, teeny, teeny, tiny box?!”

Jet turns around to face her. She looks small, scared. She’s still so young, even if it’s almost a miracle that she’s had a chance to stay a child. The world is such a rough place; you have to get sharp enough to survive it. But getting sharp didn’t do much for Spike, anyway, so maybe it’s worth it to keep your edges soft.

He crouches down so they’re on the same level and opens the box. There’s nothing to say, or at least he’s not the one that can say it. So he just lets her examine the contents.

Ed squints, carefully looking over every last inch of the little container. Then, she reaches out and grabs a handful of ash, examining that _just_ as carefully.

“Jet tricked Ed,” she says, very plainly, “It’s dust, it’s dirt, it’s dirt, it’s dust.”

“No,” he watches her, staring at her hand like she’s trying to bore a hole in it, “It’s ash. I couldn’t get off planet with his body and I couldn’t risk a funeral and the investigation was a joke, anyway. It was the only way, I had to do it. But it’s him, and we’re here to give him _something_ to send him off.”

And then, Ed shrieks.

She scrubs her hand against her shirt, frantically trying to scrub it all off. 

The shrieking turns into sobbing and before he can say anything, she bolts.

He shuts the box and sighs. It’ll do some good to give her some space and she’ll come back when she’s ready.

But he’ll go crazy without something to do; he’s been stewing alone on the Bebop for months already. So he goes looking for Faye. Funny how things change; he used to be a loner.

* * *

She’s sitting in the pilot’s seat, eyes trained on the pin-pricks of starlight out in the darkness. She’s humming something, soft and mournful, and when he reaches her side, he can see Ein half asleep in her lap.

Faye looks a whole hell of a lot younger than 23, but she also looks like someone carrying around more than a lifetime’s worth of sorrow. He knows the feeling. They all do. _All did._

He leans against the chair, watching the stars with her.

“So you’re the one that got us here, huh?” 

“You’re not allowed to laugh,” she says, sharp as a knife, “But I think Ein’s the one that did it.”

He does anyway, because god knows he needs it, “Guess he’s a genius dog, after all.”

“Smarter than the rest of us, at least,” she scratches Ein behind his ears and Jet can hear the smile in her voice.

“I fucked up. Ed bolted. We’ll be lucky if we find her this _month.”_

_That_ gets Faye laughing, “You _men_ have _zero_ skill for the delicate matters. You either bottle your feelings up or steamroll your way through a heart to heart!”

“How was _I_ supposed to know she’d freak out?! I was finally getting through to her!”

Faye turns to face him, utterly and completely unamused, “What did you _do?”_

“Well,” he wrings his hands; she’s the only one that can get him feeling something in the vein of _shy,_ “I showed her Spike’s ashes.”

“And?” She raises an eyebrow.

“And she grabbed a handful of them before screaming at the top of her lungs and sprinting out of the room.”

Faye snorts, bringing a hand up to cover her smile. Jet can tell she’s desperately trying not to laugh; he’s almost at that point himself, considering how this whole day is going.

But she manages to compose herself and says, “You thought that was a good idea, why, exactly?”

“It was the only way to get through to the kid! You know how she is!”

He won’t admit that he did it so she wouldn’t go off and get herself killed. That’s one of the secrets he’s taking to the grave. Ed hasn’t left the ship, so he’s accomplished _something,_ even if he might’ve lost her trust completely. It’s so hard to tell with her.

He drags his hands down his face, groaning, “She’s probably in the vents by now.”

“Well, that’s Ed for you,” Faye sighs, “If she’s not back by dinner, we can finally see if Ein doubles as a tracking dog.”

* * *

They don’t make it more than a few hours before they start looking for her.

He’s on edge about being so close to what used to be the dragon’s head, afraid it’ll still have enough life left over to bite them when they’re unprepared. But he won’t do this without Ed. They all have to be together for it to be worth anything at all.

As much as Spike said he hated women, children, and dogs, he _knows_ Spike wouldn’t relax around anyone he didn’t like. It took months for him to even come around to Jet.

So far, it’s not a productive search. If it was anyone other than Ed, he’d be infuriated since finding people is how he makes his damn _living,_ but he can’t be too mad at the kid.

Currently, they’re sitting in the common room, both stubbornly staring at the empty bottle of whiskey and the mostly full box of ashes sitting next to it. Neither of them want to be the first to suggest _another_ round of scouring the ship for Ed, but he’s pretty sure they’re both thinking about it.

And then Ein comes trotting in like he owns the place and hops up on the couch, next to Faye. She finally gives in, sprawling out on the couch and staring up at the ceiling while aimlessly petting Ein.

She groans, “We’re _never_ going to find her.”

“She’s around here _somewhere._ Bebop’s a big ship, but she’s still just a _ship_.”

“Why don’t _you_ find her for us, Ein?” She laughs, “Be a good boy and go find Ed.”

The dog whines and Jet’s not going to be the one to tell her that she’s taking the joke too far, but this is ridiculous. Still, it seems like she’s hanging on by a thread, so anything that can keep her in good spirits is worth _something._

“Jet can cook you anything you want if you find Ed,” she whispers, all cute and coy.

“I’m _not_ cooking for a dog,” he huffs.

“Oh,” she sits up, smiling in the way she does whenever she’s cheating at cards, “You will, when he finds Ed.”

Ein barks before hopping off the couch and circling around the table. The only thing he can do is pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. But Faye gets up, stretching out as Ein runs up to him and starts pawing at his legs.

“Well, come on, Jet!” Faye glares at him out of the corner of her eye until he gets up.

Of course, because he’s a _dog_ , Ein sets off meandering down the halls as slowly as he pleases. Same as he does every other day on the ship.

Jet’s about to call the whole thing off and go back to staring holes in the only things left of Spike when Ein suddenly turns off down an access hallway. Maybe, just _maybe,_ Faye is onto something. He hasn’t been down these walkways since Spike came along and he had an excuse to send the scrawny kid down into the guts of the Bebop to check things out when shit went wrong.

He has to laugh, can’t help himself. Of _course_ Spike would land him in a situation where he’s following a dog into the maintenance tunnels of his own ship. What else should he expect?

Faye squeezes in after him, huffing and scoffing all the while, “What is this dog _doing?”_

“What you told him to, apparently,” he barely manages to duck in time to avoid some piping.

The further they go, the warmer it gets. The light seems to be filtered through a red, hazy lense and the machinery surrounding them whirs softly. If they start to lag behind, Ein stops and barks until they manage to catch up.

As insane as the situation is, Ein manages to find her.

He stops somewhere further down the access hallway, front paws resting on the very edge of some little alcove, occasionally looking over at Jet and Faye as if to say _well, hurry up already!_ And then, Ed’s little hand reaches out, scratching Ein behind his ears.

“Ed?!” Faye shouts; he’s half worried it’ll make the kid bolt, but she seems to _like_ Faye more than anyone else.

Ed huffs, voice echoing off the walls, “Ein ruined Ed’s hiding place!”

“We were worried about you, you dumb little kid!” Faye shouts, but it’s easy to tell she’s not _angry_ , “We’ve been looking for you all day!”

“Oh, big surprise. Faye-Faye is feeling mean today.” 

No matter how glad he is that they found Ed, he’s pretty sure he’ll have to play damage control by the end of the hour. He joins the rest of them, takes a while to fit through such a small walkway, just in time to see Ed sticking her tongue out.

But she shrinks away as soon as she sees him. 

It hurts more than he ever thought it would.

“You’re not in trouble, Ed,” he says, wondering just for a second if he would’ve been a father in another life, “But we need to talk.”

Thank god it’s not this one, though, because as soon as he says it, Ed looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

“It’s Ed’s fault,” she wails, “Ed’s fault! Ed left to find the belonging-place and couldn’t even find the father-person! Ed left Bebop because it wasn’t the belonging-place but the radio tower wasn’t the belonging-place either and father-person never answered any of Ed’s calls and Ed missed Bebop but now Bebop is back and Spike is dead! Ed left first! Ed left and then Ein left and then Faye left and then Spike left but Spike didn’t come back!”

He sighs, “It’s not anyone’s fault--”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Spike’s fault,” Faye shrugs.

“ _Faye,_ you know it’s not that _simple,”_ he hisses, “It just _happened._ We can’t change that now.”

“Yay,” Ed deadpans, “Ed feels _all better._ ”

“We’re all upset and we probably will be, for a while. But we need each other now. The people that killed Spike _will_ come for us as soon as they’re able. We can make it hard for them to find us, but that means we need to work _together,”_ it’s not how he wanted to have this conversation, but it’s better now than never.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Faye raises an eyebrow, “It’s not like you’ve got Woolongs to spare for going into hiding.”

And now for the second hard part, the one he didn’t want to admit was necessary, even to himself; he grits his teeth, “I’m decommissioning the Bebop. We’ll sell her for parts, a little at a time. Nothing that would tip off the Syndicate that it’s us. This is her last flight.”

Faye looks down at her feet, voice small, “You really think we have a chance, huh?”

“We might as well already be dead if we don’t have _something.”_

“Ed can take Bebop apart?” She perks up immediately, like she wasn’t paying attention to any other part of the conversation.

“Yeah, knock yourself out, kid.”

She smiles like a madwoman, practically cackling.

“When we get back to _Earth,”_ he adds, “Don’t touch _anything_ until we land.”

“Bebop is going back to Earth?” Ed gasps, “Sleepover with Ed, every night!”

Faye groans, pleading with her eyes, “Why _Earth?_ There’s nothing there but asteroids and crazy people! There’s nothing to do!”

“We need to lie low and Doohan can help us sell the Bebop. He’ll do it, had a soft spot for Spike all these years.”

“Sleepover with Ed! Ed’s sleepover! Jet-person and Faye-Faye can stay with Ed in the radio station!”

Faye crosses her arms, “Fine. But you better be right about our chances. I don’t want to die on Earth.”

He knows it’s not just about the night-life on the planet. But that’s just another one of those things they won’t talk about. He doesn’t even know the full story, just that she said she’d never head back there again. Something about there being too many ghosts.

“Now,” he says, “Let’s do what we came here for and _leave_ before we push our luck.”

* * *

He stops by his quarters on the way to get Spike’s ashes and slips the artificial eye into his pocket. Ed’s a strange kid, but he thinks she’ll like it, since it seems like she wants something concrete, something unquestionably Spike.

He’s relieved to find her down in the hangar with Faye and just as relieved that he didn’t have to be the one to coax her back out of the Bebop’s guts. She’s nervous, he can tell, but she’s _here._

She runs right over to meet him, “Faye-Faye is boooooring, Ed is booooored, Jet-person took too long!”

He laughs, crouching down to look her in the eye as he whispers, “Got something for you, Ed.” 

Jet holds the eye up, letting her snatch it from his fingers. She unwraps the cloth around it slowly, looking it over carefully.

“Make sure it’s clean, nothing the Syndicate can mine from it. Then, it’s all yours.”

She nods, lightning quick, holding Spike’s eye close to her heart as she runs back over to Faye’s side. He sets out the ashes in the air-lock and falls in line to join them.

It’s not much of a funeral, but they’re all together, watching the stars drift lazily past them as the Bebop circles Mars. Faye’s holding Ein in her arms, muttering something into his fur. He doesn’t have anything to say, nothing that wouldn’t ruin this strange, solemn quiet. 

And then, Ed reaches out and grabs his hand. He squeezes back, with just a hint of a smile.


End file.
